Are You Disney Princess Enough?

Moms. We're all different. Our look, our parenting styles, our limits, our talents. All unique. Still, despite our differences, we manage to find kindred spirits at parks, school assemblies, dance classes, backyard barbeques and at work. We seek each other out for adult conversation, sanity and for the benefit of our small people. Moms with friends are less likely to scream about wire hangers. Less likely to be found at 1:00 p.m. singing the theme song to Meet The Fairies. In the grocery store aisles. To a cantaloupe. Drunk. We are hard on each other, but, we need each other. Yeah, I said it. I NEED YOU. So please, don't lower your blinds. Leave the curtains drawn. It's not stalking. I'm just friendly. Really friendly. Are you going to eat that last banana hanging on your banana tree? It looked lonely when I peered in your kitchen window this morning.

Moving on...

While watching the incessant Brave advertisements on Netflix, I was forced to watch Snow White, Cinderella and Aurora spin in circles, surrounded by children with their morphine drip smiles. And, it struck me. We all have a little Disney Princess in us. Disney Princess, Mom style:

The Belle Mom

She's beautiful in an unassuming way. Comfortable in her own skin. She isn't IN Book Club. She started Book Club and you had better read the book. You want to show up, drink and eat Cheetos? NEGATORY. The first rule of Book Club? You read the BOOK or Belle Mom signs you up for the wine and eating Cheetos club. (Note to self - start Drink Wine and Eat Cheetos Club) Belle Mom married a Beast so she is great at giving marital advice. Your husband wants to play poker every Wednesday? She gets you. Sister, she married an animal! She'll invite you over for venting sessions. Just ignore the claw ripped paintings in her hallways.

The Cinderella Mom

She is nice. So nice you kind of want to punch her, but, you can't because she's just so nice. She is an amazing cook and baker. She volunteers for everything. She is the first mom to arrive at every school function and the last to leave. She is ALWAYS on clean-up duty. She has never given her child a pre-packaged snack. All the kids love her. When she volunteers in the pre-school classroom (of course she does), you can find her reading to the children. There is a disturbing amount of bird carnage as thousands of birds have attempted to circle around her but died hitting the classroom windows. She married a Prince so you can't talk to her about your regular people problems, but, you can stare a hole through him as he drops the kids off at school. Because, He. Is. Hot. You want to be her. You want to kill her. You want to hire her to clean your house.

The Aurora Mom

This bitch is lazy. She sleeps all day. You kind of love her.

The Snow White Mom

You have a hard time listening to the saccharine sweetness of her high pitched voice, but, she lives with 7 men. Cocktail parties at her place could be interesting.

The Ariel Mom

She is funny. Funny ha ha and funny strange. She married young and has some Daddy issues so she has a wicked sense of humor. She is a BLAST at Karaoke. She is always tripping over her own feet. Her clumsiness is endearing. She is a vegetarian. She started the local faction of Greenpeace. NEVER offer her fish. She has amazing boobs even though she breastfed her children until the age of 2. Her husband is handsome, but, he's boring. You often wonder how they ended up together. So does she.

The Rapunzel Mom

She is shy. She doesn't get out much. She spent so much of her childhood alone so, she has overcompensated by having 7 kids in 8 years. She is sweet, sensitive and you're a little unsure you could make it work because you can't initially get a good read on her. Still, you are hopeful so you go to her house. She is comfortable and barefoot. Always. Barefoot. She paints, cooks, writes and bakes, but, she is quiet about it. Given her childhood, she is an imperfect parent. She sometimes yells. She sometimes drinks. You become fast friends. You discover she makes her own wine. You go into business together and open a winery called, The Tower.


So, which Disney Mom are you?

A Pox on Our House/A Case of Bieber Fever

I am deeply unhip. I have said it before. I'll say it again. I just said it now. There is no shame in my lack of game. I have no idea what is currently popular on the radio. I have no clue who is on American Idol. I have no idea if American Idol is even still on the air. I don't have cable. I don't play Words With Friends (because I haven't figured out how to access the app) and I have no clue how to navigate a Twitter party. I tried the "Tweetdeck" last night and jumped off almost immediately...thereby committing Twitter party suicide. Need I go on?

I have been dreading the moment that recently occurred in my kitchen since my oldest daughter made her brutally slow debut into the world. She has officially started her relationship with pop culture. On Monday, over a plate of dino nuggets and smiley face potatoes, my SIX YEAR OLD professed her love for Justin Bieber. Holy Mother of Thor. As if it wasn't hard enough to develop a meaningful and kick-ass relationship, here comes Justin Beiber and his, what I hear is, blonde hair and (apparently?) heartthrob good looks to call me out for the hardcore out of touch 30-something I am. Damn you, Bieber. Damn you hard.

My daughter, through no guidance by her parental units, discovered "the Biebs". Discovered seems like much too kind a word. People discover cures for illness,  planetary systems and fossils. Correction: she tripped over him. Bieber is the neglected, pot hole laced highway and she is the tread bare tire. Like a mosquito loves the zapper. Like a fly loves shit. This is how my daughter loves "The" Bieber. She repeatedly sings the chorus of one nameless, siren song. If I were to guess the name, I'd have to use the singular line repeated  ad nauseum at a decibel only audible by bees, dogs and this horrified mother. "BAY-BAH, BAY-BAH, BAY-BAH...AHHHHH!" Kill. Me. Now.

In addition to proclaiming her undying love, she has also requested a Justin Bieber poster for her room...that she shares...with a 2 year old. It's nice to have dreams. Everyone should. It's also nice to be brought back  down to Earth by the life lesson that you can't always get what you want. Maybe kids are right. Parents just don't understand. True, but, if a life sentence of Bieber Fever is my chance at understanding, I'm fine living in total darkness, in a dark cave in a dark land where it is dark...all the time

Is this my karma for my boom box blasting of Tiffany, Debbie Gibson and Sound Garden? Was my love for Keds, Umbro and Hypercolor so obnoxious that I must now be forced to endure Justin Bieber? Is Biebs my pound of flesh?

Dear random kid who inoculated my daughter with a hefty dose of the Heeby Biebees, I'm coming for you.

Un-effing-belBIEBERable.

My Daughters Were Not "Born to Shop".

I am a woman, a sister and a mother. I come from a family of all daughters - a tribe of fearless females. I also have 3 daughters of my own. 3 daughters! Boom. Pow! CRASH! Those are the sounds of responsibility hitting me square in the face. It is 2012, but, if you take a look around, the stereotypes and gender role messages from the past are as clear and loud as ever. They are not even lurking. They are slapping you right in the face. They press the boundaries of our collected comfort and continue to exploit the roles and "duties" society still obliges our young generation of women to fulfill. And, what role do we play in the passive assignment of who our girls "should" be? Are we taking a stand? Are we aware, enough, of what everything around them is telling them? And, what exactly are "they" saying? This parenting thing is tough. My brain hurts. I need a drink.

I live in the world of the Disney Princess. My little women watch with delight, mimic with gusto and dream of their Happily Ever After. They role play in scarves, ruffles and glitter. They sing the songs, they know the words. Oddly enough, I am ok with this. These are fairy tales. These are bedtime stories of fancy. And, in their own right, many of these heroines have just enough kick-ass to make them a household fixture that I can enjoy through my daughters' eyes. And, as time marches on, the princesses are changing. They are moving into an awareness of their special talents/gifts. What am I saying? I have no idea. I THINK I'm saying that my love/hate for the Disney Princesses is complex. It is effing deep and difficult to navigate. I have feelings. Feelings that overlap. Feelings of confusion, but, mostly, I just want to sing along. Sue me.


This is not a princess hating post. This is a post about my feelings about other gender stereotypes that are not complex. This is a post about my downright hatred of certain clothing phrases. You know, the statements we plaster across our babies and young girls' chests. Messages as clear and revolting as Grandma's 50s-era Spam dinner. We knowingly and often suit our girls up in ruffled phrases that mock the progress women who came before us have made. It is crazy. It is offensive. It has to stop. Please, make it stop! So, for your viewing displeasure, here are three of my most hated onesie/clothing statements:

"Born to Shop" - Dearest girl child, your life is full of potential. You are a bright star. You have every opportunity. Opportunities that women in other countries can only dream of. Here, wear this onesie that lets everyone know that you are a female and females just LOVE to shop. In fact, you were BORN to do it. You were not born to explore space or become President of the United States. You, my dear, were born to shop. Grab your plastic, Miss Fantastic and let's head to the mall.

"Daddy/Mommy/Grandma/Grandpa Thinks I'm Pretty" - You are a girl. That means it is your JOB to be pretty. Everything else is secondary. All the people closest to you think so and that is why we are letting the whole world know that this is your great gift/talent as a female. To reiterate, it's not being kind, smart, witty or talented that makes us proud to be your closest relatives. It's how cute you look in dresses. How pretty your tiny face is. Above all else, You. Must. Be. Pretty. Pretty girls rule the world. Don't ever forget that, Dimples.

"DIVA" gear - Are you strong willed? Do you ask for what you want? Are you opinionated? Are you full of personality? Well, then you must be a DIVA. That's right, girl. You aren't anything more than an attention seeking fameaholic. You couldn't possibly just be strong, opinionated, dynamic or the thousands of other words that apply. No, you are a DIVA. Add some glitter and a crown to that one word and walk around with it plastered to your chest. Let the world know that you are "hard to handle" and have "unrealistic expectations". It's time to start selling yourself short.

And, really, that's my big, core issue. We are telling our girls, in print, that we have the very basest of expectations for them. We anticipate that they will love the mall, be a beauty and that they just wont take no for an answer when it comes to sweet talking that extra $20 from Daddykins. Our pretty little diva shopaholics, the new generation of independent women. The tomorrow we've all been dreaming of. No? Not your dream? It's not mine either.

So, I'm campaigning for these new onesie/t-shirt phrases:

Daddy Thinks I Kick Ass!
Mommy's Mensa Candidate!
Future CEO!
Born To Be the Best Me I Can Be!
Tough As Nails & Smart As A Whip!

Let's have a good old fashioned bonfire for the others. However, I won't be burning my bra. I need it to nurse my youngest, bright star who was born to do great, unknown things that are too varied and wonderful to be splayed across her chest.


*Have your own hated onesie/clothing phrases? Please comment and share. Sharing is caring.*